The usual morning roar of lions waking up, the clatter of bones, and the squabbling of cubs was entirely absent.
Instead, several beastmen stood in a terrified circle around the center of the camp, their golden eyes wide with shock and something akin to shame.
In the middle of that circle lay two bodies.
One was Jin Ze, the feral, corrupted brother of their Prince, unconscious and bound in thick vines woven by Qing Lin's snakes.
The other was Sha Chen, the Arctic Wolf Alpha, lying terrifyingly still on a bed of furs that Xin Yi had demanded be brought from the Neutral Zone supplies.
Xin Yi sat between them, her knees pulled to her chest, her face pale and streaked with dried tears. She hadn't slept. She hadn't eaten. She had spent the entire night holding Sha Chen's massive, furry paw, whispering pleas to a goddess who was currently napping somewhere in the cosmos, and glaring at the Chief of the Lions until he looked like he wanted to dig his own grave.
